


laundry mishaps

by mimimini



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, kind of pointless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimimini/pseuds/mimimini
Summary: “Your red shirt.”Taeil finishes washing his hands and peeks through the door. “My red shirt what?”





	laundry mishaps

**Author's Note:**

> i have a soft spot for winil and i’m trying to write more so here are the poor results of my toil. also, what’s with me and laundry?

“Taeil,” Sicheng calls him from the entrance of their apartment.

“Yeah?” Taeil shouts back from the bathroom. “What is it?”

“Your red shirt.”

Taeil finishes washing his hands and peeks through the door. “My red shirt what?”

Sicheng is frowning. He points to the laundry basket he’s holding with his other arm, and for a moment Taeil is confused at the sight of their laundry still wet, but then he realises what’s wrong and--he pales at the sight.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Sicheng mutters. “Oh.”

“Well,” Taeil hesitates. “Pink does look good on you.”

He doesn’t need to read his mind to know that Sicheng is _this_ close to grabbing his boyfriend and sending him into space.

 

Sicheng scrolls an article on his phone. “Now we just need to put them in the washing machine, add detergent and wash it with cool water.”

Taeil nods, putting the clothes in a basket to bring them back to the laundry room.

“It says here to air dry them,” Sicheng looks up from the screen to glance at the window. The rain is pouring outside. “We’ll have to hang them in the living room.”

Their apartment is terribly tiny and already quite cramped, and the idea of having the smell of damp clothes where they spend most of their time isn’t very exciting, but they don’t really have a choice. Sicheng sighs.

“I’m really sorry,” Taeil apologises again as he opens the tap and slowly pours the bleach they used in the sink (they had to google that as well. Neither of them had ever used bleach in their life, and they had to ask their neighbours if they could give them some.)

Sicheng shakes his head. “I just dumped everything in the washing machine in a rush and didn’t even bother to check. I didn’t notice your shirt,” he says. “Sorry for getting angry at you.”

Taeil smiles at him, sheepish. “It’s still my fault for putting stuff in the wrong laundry basket.”

 

The laundry room is always cold, in any season. Summer is barely over and it’s already freezing down there. Taeil is still shivering when he gets back to the apartment and hears Sicheng chuckling softly at him from the sofa.

“Come here,” Sicheng tells him, gesturing for Taeil to sit with him. Taeil doesn’t hesitate and launches himself on Sicheng, ignoring his cries in protest.

He’s half in Sicheng’s lap, half hugging him, and Sicheng places his hands on Taeil’s cheeks and squeezes in retaliation.

“So cute,” Taeil coos, his voice muffled, and Sicheng scrunches his nose.

“What,” he mutters. “You’re the one who’s getting his cheeks squished.”

“I’ll take it as you telling me I’m cute,” Taeil grins as much as he can. “But you’re still cuter. That pout? The cuteness one can have only after saving a country in their previous life.”

Sicheng releases Taeil’s face and Taeil falls completely in his lap, almost hitting his head on the sofa’s armrest.

“You’re making no sense,” Sicheng grumbles, turning red.

 

There are a couple of things that still don’t look completely back to their original color, but Sicheng appears to be content with the result, and as for Taeil, he wouldn’t have minded it anyway, so the operation is considered a success.

The smell of damp clothes is indeed a bit annoying, so they hole themselves in their bedroom, cuddling in bed, feeling sleepy and blissful. Sicheng is going through a big spoon phase, and Taeil happily complies, more than happy to have Sicheng’s arm wrapped around him, Sicheng’s breath tickling his nape. Most of the time, it’s Taeil the one who clings to Sicheng, the one who (aggressively) cuddles.

Taeil doesn’t mind it either way.

He wriggles in Sicheng’s hold until he’s lying on his back and can turn his head to look at Sicheng comfortably. Sicheng keeps his eyes closed, but he’s far from being asleep.

“Hmm?” Sicheng mumbles.

“Nothing,” Taeil smiles, even if Sicheng can’t see him. He pinches Sicheng’s cheek, earning a groan from him, and then moves his hand to touch Sicheng’s ear. The ear’s slight pointedness never ceases to amaze him.

He lets his hand slip again, cupping Sicheng’s cheek.

“I love you,” he says out of the blue. Is it out of the blue? He’s said it a lot of times before. Maybe too many, but he’s sincere. He means each one of them, and Sicheng knows it, even when he scoffs or turns away embarrassed.

If Taeil could, he would be repeating it to Sicheng every waking moment. Sometimes he’s this far from doing it, a _love you_ when they wake up next to each other, an _I love you_ when they bump into each other while brushing their teeth, another one when Sicheng comes back from his morning run, sweaty and stinking, one after they fight because Taeil is messy, another one when... He can’t believe how lucky he is to have Sicheng by his side. Taeil loves him to the point he feels sorry sometimes, because isn’t it heavy? Being loved so much?

“I love you too.” Sicheng grins, opening his eyes, and shifts closer to give a peck on Taeil’s forehead. With a chuckle, he’s off the bed, and after a moment Taeil hears him scampering in the kitchen.

There’s a loud crash, followed by Sicheng’s groans.

Taeil laughs, happy.

**Author's Note:**

> i have never bleached clothes nor used bleach for any reason in my life so. yeah. sorry if i wrote weird stuff.  
> i'm trying to write another dowoo but i'm stuck... anyway, you can talk to me on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/mimimini) if you want?


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